The Downward Spiral
by SamanthaRose
Summary: Sometimes, playing the tough guy is a lot harder than it seems...
1. Chapter 1

The churchbell stopped ringing, powering down with a horrible noise as the voice that screamed behind the safe room door dissolved into gutteral growls and choking. The waves of zombies kept coming for some time, and the four survivors beat them back as best they could with what they had. The fires from the gas cans and the molotovs still burned outside, but the fire wouldn't last forever and Francis was convinced the zombies would find another way around it.

Louis looked behind them, running for the safe room door while still firing at the advancing horde. His shouting was lost in the noise of gunfire and the screaming of the zombies, but the high pitched, inhuman sound of the hunter was not. It flew out at Louis as soon as the door opened, but he managed to duck out of the way just in time, eyes wide.

The hunter landed heavily in the middle of the room, then dove behind the organ in the middle of it just as Bill spun to open fire on it. Zoey shouted from the broken wall they had been defending, hurrying into the safe room herself at Louis' indication, and Bill moved slowly towards the room with his back to it, gun poised to fire if the hunter showed itself.

Francis watched carefully as well. He was farthest from the safe room, but closest to the organ, and from here he could easily hear the growling of the hunter as it waited once more to pounce.

"Francis!" Bill shouted. "Get your ass over here!"

The hunter screamed again, and Francis grunted as he ran forward, delivering one heavy booted kick to the side of the organ to send it flying across the room on its broken wheels, the hunter leaping easily out from behind it as it moved.

"C'mon, little wussy!" Francis snarled at it, and it bared a mouth filled with blood stained teeth in a grin as it crouched and circled.

"Francis!" Zoey's frantic voice cried, the sound of another horde coming from behind the walls that surrounded the church. "Please, come on!"

The hunter pounced at him, but Francis swung his gun just in time, catching it in the face with the heavy butt of it and sending it stumbling backwards. It leapt away from him to avoid another blow, and he ran as quickly as he could for the safe room. Behind him, the hunter screamed, and he felt bullets rip past him as the others fired on it. He made it into the room and turned in time to see the hunter flying towards him, a strong hand bracing against his shoulder and shoving him out of the way just as it was about to land on him.

Instead, as he stumbled back, the hunter ploughed into Bill, driving him to the ground heavily and raising its clawed hands to tear at him. Swinging his gun around quickly, Francis put a round through the hunter's head and it slumped sideways, limp, the other two rushing forward to pull it off of Bill.

Louis looked up while Zoey got Bill back on his feet, his blood stained and filthy face twisted in fury.

"What the hell, man? Why didn't you come when we got the door open, while that hunter was still hiding?"

"We couldn't just leave it out there. It would have gone around and waited for us on the other side. It had to be dealt with!" Francis replied, and Louis made a sound of disgust.

"Well, you sure dealt with it, didn't you?" The smaller man growled, and Zoey's voice from below them drew their attention away from one another.

"Guys… Bill's not looking so good."

Guilt began to gnaw at Francis' gut as he looked down at them, seeing how difficult it was for Bill to stand without assistance, the amount of blood that stained Bill's clothing and the labored way the old man was now breathing.

The hunter had to be dealt with… but maybe if he had just shot it when it was circling him, Bill wouldn't be in such bad shape.

Zoey pulled out the first aid kit she had found on their way here, but Francis put his hand on her shoulder and shoved her out of the way, making her blink up at him in confusion.

"Lemme do it." He muttered, and Louis spoke from behind him.

"Let Zoey do it. You've done enough for one day."

"Shut the hell up, all of you." Bill suddenly spat, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Fightin' like this isn't going to make anything easier for us. If we're going to make it out of here alive, we need to stick… stick…" Bill began coughing heavily, blood splattering Francis' vest, and the younger male put his hands on Bill's shoulders to steady him. "Stick together, damn it."

"We're not going to be able to go anywhere with Bill like this." Zoey said quietly. "We're going to have to wait here for a little while."

"We've got ammo and med kits here, but there's no food." Louis murmured back. "We can only stay long enough to determine whether or not Bill's going to be able to keep going, then we have to move."

"The girl's right." Francis growled, looking over at Louis. "We gotta stay here for a little while. Maybe you two can go and find some food, I'll patch Bill up. I owe him that much, after all." The last bit came out very quietly, and Bill turned his eyes up to look at Francis.

Louis and Zoey exchanged glances, then Zoey moved back towards Francis, also looking up at him.

"We're all pretty tired." She murmured. "We'll stay here for awhile, too. Then, when we've rested, we'll go and find some food."

"Yeah." Louis agreed, seating himself by the door with his assault rifle still in his hands, a sigh escaping him. "We're gonna be okay. Maybe resting is a good idea after all."

"I'm going up to the top, okay?" Zoey managed a smile. "I'll see if I can keep watch and pick off the ones I can get to from up there."

As she ascended the ladder, Francis began tugging Bill's jacket off, drawing a grunt of discomfort and a glare from the old man.

"Careful." Bill growled, and Francis offered him a murmured apology, taking his med kit out and beginning to pull out bandages. Bill shrugged his jacket off, pressing one hand to his side with a grimace and a hiss but not daring to actually look down at the wound.

He felt better off not knowing the extent of his wounds.

Francis tried to be gentle, but it wasn't exactly his area of expertise. The entire time he patched Bill up, the room was filled with angry cursing, shouts of pain, the looks on the other survivors faces making Francis feel worse about this than he already did.

Louis went up after a time to join Zoey, the sound of their guns firing sporadically almost a comfort to Francis as he worked.

However, when it came to bandaging the larger wound on Bill's side inflicted by the hunter attacking, Francis paused, putting his hand over it for a moment and closing his eyes. The sound of gunfire from above wasn't enough to drown out the whisper pitched for Bill's ears only, and the old man swallowed when he heard it, a chill running through him.

"Damn it, Bill…"

"Don't say it." Bill muttered in return, and Francis looked up at him sternly. "I ain't finished yet, kid."

From the look of it, Francis found himself thinking, Bill didn't have much time left. And he certainly wasn't in any shape to go running around, not anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Francis bandaged the wound as best he could, and when it was finally done, Bill slumped to the ground with a sigh of relief and pulled out his cigarettes. Francis regarded him for a moment, then crouched down and looked at Bill pointedly, holding out his hand. Bill glanced at him, then did an effective double take, his brows furrowing.

"What?" He asked shortly, and Francis raised an eyebrow, sighing. "These are mine, you can't have them."

"I don't want 'em." Francis murmured, smirking. "And you don't need 'em."

Bill frowned some more, but eventually handed over the mostly empty box of cigarettes, which Francis pocketed without a word. They stared at one another for a long moment, then Bill settled back and muttered a few times, pressing his hand to his side once more.

"You can have them back when you're better." Francis murmured to him, standing and stretching. He looked up towards the upper floor, seeing Zoey peering down at him and offering her a thumb's up.

She nodded wordlessly and disappeared from view again, then Francis went to sit down himself, surprised at how good it felt. He supposed the fight outside and the tension of the hunter attack had tired him out more than he realized…

To his dismay, Bill's voice startled him from sleep he hadn't realized he had fallen into, and he sat up quickly to see if there was anything wrong.

"About time." Bill barked. "Your snoring is horrendous. And it's your watch, so don't go back to sleep."

Rubbing his eyes, Francis peered around the room and frowned, seeing the other two survivors asleep nearby on some blankets scavenged from the room above. Bill was staring at him curiously, and he stifled a yawn behind his hand before shifting into a more comfortable sitting position.

"I'm up, I'm up… how long was I out?" He asked, rubbing his eyes again.

"Couple of hours, at the most. I've been awake the whole time… I figured maybe I ought to try and get some rest, myself." Bill jerked his thumb at Zoey and Louis, smirking. "Those two were out shortly after you were. I'm letting them sleep because they're the ones that are gonna have to leave when they wake up."

As Bill spoke, Francis felt the guilt beginning to well up inside him again. If Zoey and Louis were the only ones leaving when they woke up, that meant Bill knew he wasn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon. And it also meant that Francis was going to be the one staying to watch him and make sure he was alright.

"How ya feeling?" He grumbled, and Bill let out a rude noise and offered him a thumb's down.

"I've certainly been better. I took some pills for the pain…" He paused, shifting ever so slightly with a grimace, and Francis swallowed a few times before opening his mouth to speak again. Bill beat him to it, speaking without looking at him. "I'm afraid to go asleep. And I don't admit to being afraid very easily, Francis."

"Afraid to sleep?" Francis echoed, tilting his head to the side with a frown. "What do you…"

"I'm afraid to go to sleep because I don't think I'll get up again if I do." Bill continued, and Francis' eyes widened. "But don't go tellin' the others and worrying them. I don't want them to worry… With any luck, if I do go, I'll do it while they're off hunting, so they don't have to see it. Louis would get discouraged, and he's the only one of us with any optimism left. And Zoey is too young for this sort of thing to begin with. Sure, she's seen a lot of horror movies, sure, she's been helping us fight the infected, but she's never dealt with real death before and I don't want to have to be the one to force her to."

"Stop it." Francis snapped. "Stop talking like that. You're gonna be fine, Bill, you're gonna-"

Bill held his hand up as Zoey stirred, but when the girl simply went on sleeping, also exhausted from the battle in the church, Bill turned his gaze to Francis sternly.

"Everybody dies, Francis. And if any one of us does, I'd rather it be me. After all… I've had a long life already. I'll be damned if I live to see any of you go first." He murmured softly.

Francis' felt his throat grow thick, felt a terrible ache in his chest and a burning in his eyes. Shame blossomed in him that overwhelmed the guilt, but he refused to let the ache and the burning become anything more. He wasn't about to cry in front of the old man… with his luck, Bill would come back and tease him about it even if he DID die.

Francis was supposed to be the tough guy, the strong one. What would they think if he started crying now? He looked back at Bill, noting the way the old man was shivering and standing to find a blanket that wasn't being used. He tucked a spare one around Bill, and there wasn't a single protest that came from him as he did.

Francis took it as another sign of just how badly Bill was doing.

It was another few hours before the other two woke, and it was decided by the whole group that they would leave immediately. There were shops and restaurants in the town below, somewhere out there was food that they could bring back. As long as they had food, ammo and weapons, they would survive…

When they left, Francis and Bill sat in silence for awhile, avoiding one another's gazes until Francis decided to speak.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Bill grunted, looking over at the younger male.

"The hunter… if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in this mess, right?" Francis' face had the look of a beaten dog when he finally turned it to face Bill, and the old man stifled a laugh.

"Son, if I hadn't shoved you out of the way, you would have been the one in my shoes and I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself. Don't you worry about who's to blame, just be glad that you're in one piece." Bill paused. "And give me my damn cigarettes before I start getting surly."

Francis dug them out of his pocket and handed them back to Bill, who grunted in appreciation and fumbled to remove one from the package. Francis caught his hands gently and took the box away, taking out a cigarette and offering it to Bill, his expression guarded.

Bill stared at him for a moment, then took the cigarette in shaking fingers and put it in his mouth. Francis then took his lighter and lit the cigarette himself.

Bill didn't complain.

Again, there was silence between them, but this time neither of them had the heart to break it and let it draw on longer than was polite or necessary. Francis couldn't bring himself to look at Bill…

Bill couldn't take his eyes off of Francis. He had never seen the younger man so torn up, though he had known the moment they met that the tough guy exterior was just a mask. He could tell that Francis was afraid, had heard the shrieks of terror that came from him whenever he got knocked down, but he also knew that Francis had more guts than most of them could claim. He was always the first to plough into battle, always the first to pull out his gun, always the one shouting and taunting the infected when they came around.

Perhaps it was Francis' way of keeping sane.

Bill wondered if perhaps he had made a mistake forcing Francis to stay with him now. He was beginning to wonder if perhaps this might be harder for Francis than it would have been for any of the others.

He coughed again then, coughed hard and splattered blood on the blanket that covered him before clapping one hand over his mouth. Eyes shut tightly, he felt rather than heard or saw Francis approach him, saying nothing when the younger males strong arms wrapped around him and held him protectively to his broad chest.

When the coughing stopped, Bill lay against Francis' chest and struggled to breath. He had never felt so weak, and he had never felt so scared before. He had always figured he wouldn't be afraid when the end came and just counted himself thankful…

He didn't have to do this alone.

"Bill." Francis' voice was thick, a little higher pitched than normal, and Bill kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to sully the boy's dignity by watching him cry, and as it was, the tears he could feel falling on him as Francis held him tightly were bad enough.

"It's alright…" Bill whispered, the two words taking some effort as he continued to struggle to breath. He was feeling dizzy now, no doubt from the amount of blood he had lost, and a smile touched his lips as he lay his head gently against Francis' shoulder. "I'm alright."

"No you're not." The incredulous tone of Francis' voice made him laugh, and it hurt more than he wished it would. The laughter dissolved into more coughing, which caused Francis' arms to close on him a little more tightly, as if the boy thought it would make Bill better if he held him tighter.

"You're here…" Bill gasped, breath rattling in his chest. "I'm just fine…"

It happened mere heartbeats later. It was quiet, not violent, not at all how Francis expected it would be, but the second he realized, the second he could no longer feel the gentle rise and fall of Bill's breath as he held him against his body, something inside him broke.

There was no one there to see him cry, not right now, so he stopped holding back. Pressing his lips to the top of Bill's head, he took a breath in and leaned his head back, tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't wail, he didn't scream, he just sobbed breathlessly, knowing any sound otherwise would alert the swarms of infected outside. He held Bill's body tightly and sobbed, one hand pressing to his mouth to stifle any sound that might have escaped while the other gripped the torn back of Bill's jacket.

He didn't know how long he was there, how long he cried for, but when the sound of footsteps on the roof reached him, Francis struggled to pull himself together. He took his time moving, finally laying Bill's body back against the blankets and making sure his eyes were closed. When he looked down at the old man, though, he saw Bill had already closed his own eyes…

The realization that Bill had been ready to die made fresh tears appear in his eyes, and even the return of the other survivors couldn't stop them. Neither of them said a word, and when he scaled the ladder to leave the building, they didn't speak or ask questions.

Together, they gathered as many gas cans, canisters of compressed air, propane tanks and molotovs as they could, piling them together inside the church safe room. Francis ushered them all down into the street, using the scope on his hunter rifle to shoot one of the cans they had propped up against the window. From where they were standing in the street, the heat was terrible, and the noise and fire would surely attract any infected in the area, so they couldn't linger long.

They spent as much time as they could, however, paying their respects to their dead friend. As they moved out of the street and towards the next safe room, Francis was silent. He fought beside them without his usual banter, but with more fire and aggression than normal.

It was when they finally reached the safe room that Zoey noticed the dog tags that were around his neck…


End file.
